Death's Most Cherished Bloom
by VictoriaMimiValery
Summary: Death himself becomes obsessed with Morticia Addams. Rated M for sexual situations
1. Chapter 1

The sharp sound of the shears slicing through thick stems filled the heavy air of the conservatory. Blossoms fell with a thud, landing in scattered petals around the tentacle hem of the ebony dress that shrouded their beautiful executioner. Silken petals reached to kiss the pale flesh that held their thorn riddled bodies as they made their descent to the forgotten wood floor. Some succeeded in their quest, caressing her flesh in their first moments of untimely death. Their tender kisses went unnoticed by Morticia, her attention stolen by the sharp bites the thorns were leaving on the pads of her fingers. Bloodless punctures indented her sensitive skin, tempting Morticia with their promise of a moment's pain.

"Beautiful, Cara Mia! Your thorns have never looked so lovely."

The smell of his cigar enveloped her seconds before his arms did. Course hair scratched at her delicate neck, creating a slight irritation that was quickly soothed by his overzealous lips.

"Thank you, darling" she cooed as he continued the exploration of her exposed flesh. In his ardor, he pulled at her delicate waist throwing off her center of balance. As her feet struggled to reclaim their stability, she was pulled against her loving husband. A smile threatened to spread across her lips as she felt his grip tighten around her.

"Darling" her tone warned, but it had no affect on Gomez. His hands roamed across her abdomen until they rested on her hips.

"Gomez darling, let me go. I have to finish trimming the thorns."

He pulled her hips against him, as he breathed in the scent of her hair.

"They can wait, I can't."

Again, his strength manipulated her form, as she moved to keep her balance her grip tightened around the stem in her hand. Delicate streams of warm blood began to trickle down her palm. Morticia put the shears down and patted Gomez's hand.

"Darling"

Defeated, Gomez looked up to find crimson streaking the alabaster of her hand.

"Tish!" He grabbed her injured palm and inspected each tiny puncture. At last, a smile graced her face as she watched his lips absorb each drop of blood. Her other hand delved into his dark, greased hair. Gomez's eyes clouded with darkness at her touch. Morticia's hand traveled from his hair to rest on his strong jaw line.

"Mon Cher"

The pet name was barely more than a husky breath, but it was all the permission Gomez needed. Swiftly, he moved from her palm to the exposed flesh of her wrist, taking his time tasting the raw skin. His adoration of her flesh continued up her sleeve, leaving a trail of warm kisses that penetrated the thin fabric of her dress.

"Tish" he exhaled as he traveled up her neck. "Say something else in French. Anything: Moulin Rouge, escargot, oh la la, Anything!"

"Bien sûr, mon mari chéri"

Groaning in pleasure, he pulled her closer. Their lips met desperately, teeth pulling on the fleshy pouts that were hectically trying to capture one another. Neither noticed the French doors creak open, or an ominous shadow slinking in through the small crack. What few blossoms were left of Morticia's roses began to quake with fear. The lovers were oblivious to the gloom that began to climb the walls, leaving a trail of despair to infect the air. Cleopatra tried to warn her parents by wrapping herself around their legs. They didn't understand, Morticia gave her a soft scolding.

"Now, now Cleopatra. What did mother tell you about playing nice?"

"I know its not the same thing you told me, querida." Gomez quipped before nibbling on her neck.

Cleopatra tried again, squeezing their legs with such force that they were thrust even closer together. Their bodies were seamlessly melded together, Morticia leaning into Gomez's sturdy frame for support. The proximity was driving him wild with desire ; So was the idea of being helplessly bound to Morticia.

"Cleopatra!" Morticia was ready to chastise the African strangler before Gomez's laugh interrupted her.

"I think Cleopatra is telling us something, my dear."

Morticia was confused. Not missing a beat, Gomez's grabbed a fistful of Morticia's hair and gently pulled her head back so that he had full access to her ruby lips. He was suffocating her, his tongue invading her mouth, his nose pressing against hers, and his arms crushing her against him. She clawed at his shirt, the burning in her lungs making her powerless. For just a moment, he pulled away allowing her to catch her breath.

"Unhappy, darling?"

"Oui" she taunted.

With that, he pulled Cleopatra away and lifted Morticia in his arms. Morticia caressed the side of his face as she whispered strings of French adorations into his ear. They reached the stairs just as a dark figure emerged to claim their vacant spot near the roses. Cleopatra shrunk away, hiding behind the hemlock. A broken bloom was lifted into his palm as he fumed at Gomez's triumphant face heading up the stairs.


	2. Chapter 2

The deep burgundy sheets draped over her lithe frame, the satin tenderly protecting each inch of her naked flesh. Disarrayed pillows lay shoved near the dark cast iron headboard, their lumpy comfort unnecessary during the passion filled night. A pale, willowy arm had escaped the protected cover to reach for the empty spot which Gomez had inhabited only minutes before. Her skin absorbed his lingering heat desperately, as a chill suddenly possessed the room. Even in her slumber, Morticia was effortlessly enigmatic. Dark lashes lay gently on pale cheeks mimicking the way her disheveled raven hair was fanned out over the seductive fabric underneath her. Somehow her ivory skin turned two shades lighter, parts of her flesh were diaphanous, exposing coursing veins beneath the thin surface.

"Morticia"

Her name filled the air, voiced by one that was voiceless. His eerie breath attacked her cheek as if adorning her with fervent kisses. In her sleep she shivered, eager to protect herself from the sudden discomfort. Her skin was pebbled, a sensation that was well known from her lover's skilled touch, but now it was birthed from the unearthly cold.

"Morticia"

Her brow furrowed, her sleeping brain trying to comprehend the calling of her name. The dark, cold mass hovered over her frame, only inches away from feeling the soft porcelain of her skin. She was motionless, trapped in her dream state. It was where she was most vulnerable, where he could make his presence known. In her dreams, the veil between his world and hers was lifted. Again, he called her name. It was too real, making her surrender her slumber and begin her return to her life. Quickly, he shrunk away from her waking figure.

Her eyes fluttered open, still suffering from the fatigue of rigorous love making mixed with a poor night's sleep. Blue pools grew deeper in hue with each clearing blink. They scanned the room for the familiar silhouette of her Castillian husband whom she had assumed had drawn her from her dreams. When he was nowhere to be seen, a small smile spread her ruby lips. Gomez was nothing if not creative.

"Darling," she called. "Isn't it a little early to be playing such games?"

There was no answer, not even a snicker indicating where Gomez might be hiding. With a delicate sigh, Morticia stretched out her arms, momentarily admiring the overwhelming black diamond that called her finger home. Sitting up right, she glanced around the room trying to find spots where her husband could be hiding. She paid no attention to the fact that she was exposed to the chilly air, the sheet having fallen in a pool on her lap.

"Gomez?"

She hoped to coax him out, still reluctant to desert their bed. Silence was her only response.

"Darling, why don't you just come to me? We can play games later."

Morticia was certain that would lure her mischievous love out. Gomez was always quick to take any invitation his wife offered, still he did not come. That was when Morticia noticed her breath. Her heart pounded in her chest despite her not understanding why. It was as if her body knew something her mind didn't, and it was urging her to figure it out. Ignoring her frozen flesh, Morticia tried to convince herself she was still a surprise participant in Gomez's game. Rubbing her hands over her arms, she glanced to the floor beside the bed. Maneuvering so that she lay on her stomach, she readied herself to look underneath the bed. Slowly she inched her way down, her raven hair revealing her plan as it cascaded unashamedly ahead of her to tickle the ground. She expected to feel a firm grasp possess her tresses, yet there was nothing. Again, she felt her heart mercilessly palpitate. Time froze as her eyes crossed the final barrier between the mattress and what lay beneath.

There was nothing, Morticia stared at a dust covered floor. She pulled herself up, leaning against the pillows as she re-covered herself. Her mind convinced her that she was just replaying her husband's cries of passion in her sleep. It was all imagined by the desire that heated her full heart, she told herself.

Gripping the sheet for warmth, Morticia noticed her fingers turning a light shade of blue. It was so odd that their room would be so cold. She glanced at the thick tapestries draped over the wall, never had the freezing temperatures been able to penetrate their medieval protection. Frustrated at the lack of her husband's warmth, she got out of bed. Mindlessly, she reached for her black dressing gown. The fabric took the place of her recently deserted bedsheet, covering her flesh with its silken touch. Long fingers smoothed her wild hair before she opened the door. As soon as she entered the hallway, she could feel the substantial difference in temperature.

"Querida!" Gomez exclaimed as he captured her in his arms. "I was just coming to see if you were still sleeping, angelita mia."

"Darling, I had the strangest dream. You were calling for me repeatedly."

"I was?"

"It was so real, it woke me up. I thought you were playing a game with me."

Gomez pulled her closer, his breath warming her cold cheek. "I'd like to play with you." He huskily whispered, crushing her against himself. She melted into the heat radiating from his skin.

"Darling" she purred happily as she caressed the side of his face.

Suddenly, Gomez's face grew worrisome.

"Do you feel a draft?"

Morticia glanced back to their open door, and for a second she thought she saw a shadow move just out of her view.


	3. Chapter 3

Nightmares had plagued Morticia for days, their terror a welcome addition to her restless nights. Each night she dreamed of Death's embrace, of the precise moment he would possess her body. Her hands would turn the exact shade of her icy eyes as her heart began to slow its beat at the touch of his freezing lips. Nothing about the endless terrors seemed odd to her sleeping mind until one lacked an appearance from her darling Gomez.

It was this fateful nightmare that troubled Morticia, her husband had never been absent from her dreams. Death without Gomez verged on frightful, which proved to Morticia that a sinister force was preying on her. She was drowning in her inner turmoil, oblivious to the world. While worrying about Gomez, she ended up unintentionally ignoring him.

When she woke up earlier that day, he was already downstairs. She was so troubled by her haunted dream that she didn't seek him out, instead she dressed and went straight to the conservatory. Gomez had come searching for her, but even through their affectionate greetings she was distant. The weight of distress sitting on her heart was so overwhelming, she grabbed her cloak and headed to the Addams graveyard.

Morticia had been in the company of dilapidated headstones for hours. There was a strange peace dwelling in the overgrown cemetery, a peace that Morticia felt she could no longer find in their home. Sitting on a wrought iron bench near an ivy-covered mausoleum, Morticia closed her eyes and listened for the inaudible whispers of cherished ghosts.

The Addams ancestors were never shy about communing with their young relative, knowing she was always willing to listen. Taking turns, they shared their grievances and joys from beyond their graves. Morticia only asked one thing of them, if they knew who the dark figure was that had been following her. Each responded negatively, feeding Morticia's growing anxiety.

She released a weary sigh, burdened by the immensity of her emotional distress. A breeze brushed through her silken tresses, tousling the delicate strands around her face. With her eyes still closed, she drifted into her deepest fears.

"Ah Cara Mia, how beautiful you are surrounded by the stillness of eternal rest."

Gomez's warm voice was the key to opening her sapphire eyes. He was only a few feet away, a cigar held between his fingers and the most charming smile on his lips. Morticia lowered her gaze, accepting his adoration demurely. In four quick steps he was at her side, his arms around the front and back of her body, and his face hovering at her cheek.

"Tish, I've craved you all day. I have been counting down to our hour, knowing I will at last have you in my arms."

"Oh darling, I must have lost track of time. I'm sorry, Mon Cher." Morticia turned her head to meet his eyes. All he needed was a second to drown in her sapphire pools before her claimed her ruby lips as his. Her usual passion was dimmed, sending an immediate alert to her loving husband.

"Querida, what is it?"

She stared into his inviting eyes that were desperate for her familiar affection. Tenderly, she stroked the side of his face.

"Mon Cher" she whispered as if memorizing everything about him.

His every move was fluid yet strategic, and Morticia found her arm locked in his hand as he planted kisses up her sleeve.

"Darling," she tried to steal his attention. Dedication to his display of affection controlled each of his senses, making him deaf to her coo. "Darling," she repeated with more urgency. The change of her tone worried him, ceasing his loving kisses.

"What is it, Morticia?" He stroked her dark hair before fear filled his eyes. "Did I do something to upset you? Querida, you are my life, I would die if I was the cause of your trouble!"

"No, Darling." She reassuringly patted his hand. Morticia took a deep breath before meeting his concerned gaze.

"Gomez, I am being stalked."

A smirk appeared on his lips as a mischievous glint filled his eye.

"I'd say you have been caught, Cara Mia." He bit at her neck.

"I'm not talking about you, Gomez."

That statement brought her husband back to his worried state. Taking her slender hand in his, he began to squeeze her tender flesh in an attempt to transfer his anxiety. He waited patiently as she visibly gathered her thoughts.

"I am being hunted by something not of this world."

"Tish?"

"I am not fearful of things from the otherworld." She paused, her sparkling eyes penetrating his soul. "But, I do not like feeling like prey to a shadow that will not identify itself."

"My love, perhaps it is just a departed cousin playing tricks on you?"

"I asked. It is no one here."

Gomez was openly upset. He jumped out of his seat spewing passionate words that promised he could conquer any beast that dared to threaten his wife. Pulling Morticia to her feet, he secured her in his arms before shouting out to the surrounding graves.

"Listen you fiends! This beautiful creature will not be scared by your feeble tricks. Must I remind you that you are our guests? We allow you to roam freely in our world but, we could easily ban you to your cold graves. I advise you all to think of this, and act wisely!"

"Gomez, it's not them." She whispered trying to calm his fiery threats.

"This incredible woman defends you! If it is indeed a strange entity, I call upon all of you to rid us of this new pest!"

The whispers of the ancestors filled the still air.

"Now Tish," he pulled her so close she could feel his rapid heartbeat pounding against the bare flesh of her chest. "It is long past our hour."

As if it was one of the graceful steps, Gomez maneuvered her body into its submissive position. Their waltz started slow and small, their feet barely moving from their original spot. The proximity of his body began flood her form with his warmth, traveling from wherever his skin touched to her starving heart. Morticia felt his passion reviving her frigid soul. With each movement, she became more alive and ardent, matching his growing desire.

"Tish," he growled before attacking her throat. She felt herself melting into him, selfishly craving his touch. Gomez grew bolder with his actions, baring his teeth against her delicate flesh. Curling with pleasure, her crimson nails began to embed themselves in his shoulder and hand. Their lust was becoming an insatiable monster devouring their minds until all they could think of was their uninhibited need. Just when Morticia was ready to succumb to their desires, a chill crept under skin. For a moment, she felt the emptiness of oblivion and it frightened her. It wasn't the bleak nothingness that overtook her body that terrified her, it was the look of helplessness she saw in Gomez's eyes as she fainted in his arms.


	4. Chapter 4

_***Author's Note* Hello! Sorry it has been a while, but do not lose hope in this story, I have it all planned out! I would love to read your comments. Thanks for reading!**_

Morticia's fainting spell shook Gomez to his core. In the few seconds it took for her to collapse in his arms, he memorized every sensation and replayed the event as his wife now slept beside him. The horror of seeing the glaze cover his beloved's sparkling sapphire eyes as her knees betrayed her frame haunted his mind's eye. He could still feel her dead weight leaning against his arms, and the sudden chill that invaded her soft flesh. The panic that overtook every nerve in his system as he watched Morticia's head fall back replayed its horror as he glanced over her sleeping form. His heart broke with the thought that when he should have been dipping her in their dance of seduction, he was supporting her lifeless body instead.

Gomez gazed at his slumbering wife, tenderly brushing back a stray strand of silken ebony hair from her face. He tried desperately just to admire her delicate features, but the traumatic image of her ghostly pallor and blue tinted lips would not leave his mind. They often talked of death, but never did he or Morticia consider that they would go to his embrace alone. It wasn't until he carried her limp body up to their bed that he realized one day he might lose his darling wife. A new fear possessed him, the possibility of a life without Morticia. Loneliness and despair flooded his mind at the idea of such a loss, for without his love, life had no purpose.

She wasn't unconscious long, her dark lashes fluttering while she still lay in his arms as he was climbing the stairs. As soon as he saw the cool blue of her eyes, he flashed her a charming smile to put her at ease. She didn't stay awake for long; her eyes had closed in exhaustion as soon as he laid her down on the bed. Gomez had not left her side in the hours since her collapse, determined to protect her. In her sleep, she sought him out draping her arm across his lap. Unable to resist touching her, he gently ran his fingers down her arm. The action caused her to stir, heightening Gomez's senses. He was desperate to prevent anything else happening to his querida.

"Gomez?"

Her voice bewitched him, as soon as he heard it his hand was running up her arm and down her side.

"Cara Mia," he whispered as he moved to face her. Gently he kissed her cheek, and pulled her against him.

"You frightened me, Morticia."

Her pupils grew at his statement dripping with love and worry.

"You usually enjoy when I frighten you, mon cher."

Gomez laughed at her playfulness. Her hand went to the side of his face, her cool skin teasing his hot blood. Gomez growled, pulling at her waist. Morticia was enjoying the warmth of his strong hands on her body when his show of affection suddenly stopped.

"What happened, Tish?"

She didn't know how to answer him. Concern clouded his eyes as he patiently waited for her response. Morticia pressed herself against him, drawn to his warmth.

"Tish?"

"Mon Cher," she began, but her words were trapped in her throat. Morticia had no idea what had happened or what to say to her husband. She didn't remember fainting, and didn't have any symptoms of illness. Her panicked heart was quickly put at ease by Gomez's loving caress. He knew her so well, there was no need for words.

"With what you told me earlier, I believe we should consult mama."

"Yes," Morticia got excited. "Yes, a séance is exactly what we need."


	5. Chapter 5

Grey clouds covered the luminance of the full moon, while the wind howled through the trees of the cemetery. There was a bitter chill in the air which seeped through every deteriorating crack in the foundation of the Addams house. Gomez hoped that the frigid draft would rekindle Morticia's passionate demeanor, the chilly air had always made her feel delightfully miserable.

They had waited impatiently for the hour of the séance to arrive, and at last Mama announced that the moon was just right. Taking Morticia's hand, Gomez led her to the table that was set up in the conservatory. Mama waited silently, a sheer black veil covering her thin white hair and weathered face. As the couple took their seats, they placed their free hands into Mama's waiting calloused palms. A flash of lightning illuminated the candle lit room as their hands connected. When the clap of thunder finally followed, Mama's head had fallen forward.

Silence possessed the room as the temperature dropped making everyone's breath visible. Gomez's attention immediately went to his wife. His eyes were transfixed on her profile desperate to catch any shift in her statuesque features. Morticia glanced his way, the feeling of his stare burning through her intuition and forcing her to acknowledge his growing concern. Before they had a chance to lock eyes, Mama gasped as she violently sat up.

"Morticia!" the scream echoed throughout the room. The sound was unlike any other they had heard when communing with the dead. It was as if there were hundreds of voices rising and being used as one. Morticia squeezed Gomez's hand, needing to reassure herself that he was there beside her.

"Who are you, demon?" Gomez growled.

Mama's frame shook with diabolical laughter, before stopping suddenly to expose a toothy smile.

"Foolish man, it is not a demon with whom you speak."

"Then I repeat my question; Who are you?" Gomez was stern in his demand for answers, unfazed by the specter's attempt to frighten them.

Mama's head rolled from side to side, the smile still plastered on her face.

"Who are you?" Gomez shouted.

Mama stopped moving, her face lifting to stare at Gomez with her white unseeing eyes.

"I have many names. I take many shapes. For generations I have been a welcomed and honored guest in the Addams home."

"What do you want from me?" Morticia's level and elegant voice questioned.

Mama's head snapped towards Morticia, the smile now gone. The couple watched as the old woman's face contorted into a myriad of different expressions. Finally, it came to rest with a look of hopeless longing.

"Morticia" this time the voice was the same whisper that she had heard in her sleep. Morticia's blood froze, her pale skin began to turn blue, and her muscles became stiff. Desperate to escape these new sensations she tried to call for Gomez, but her voice was stifled. It was as if an icy hand was wrapped around her larynx, freezing the only air that could produce a sound.

"Beautiful Morticia" the whisper cooed.

"What do you want with my wife?"

Slowly, Mama turned back to Gomez, her head crooked to the side. They sat in silence waiting for an answer. Morticia's vision suddenly began to blur, her breath was becoming shallower with each inhalation. She couldn't feel her body, she tried to move the fingers that rested in her husband's embrace, but nothing seemed to be in her control.

"Till Death do you part."

Gomez was furious at threatening tone that mocked their precious marriage vows. He was ready to demand the spirit leave their home, but the séance was unexpectedly cut short. Morticia's hands slipped away from the others as she fell to the floor, breaking the sacred spirit circle. Gomez rushed to her side, as Mama groggily questioned what had happened.

"Tish," Gomez caressed her cheek, shocked at how cold she was. Getting no response, he moved to pick her up only to find that she was completely stiff, her body locked in its fallen position.

"What's wrong, Gomez?"

Tears brimmed Gomez's eyes as he faced his mother.

"What do I do?"

The question was barely audible, but it shattered Mama's heart with its utter hopelessness. She had no words of comfort for her distressed son as he pulled his rigid wife into his lap. She did the only thing she believed would help and pulled on the noose to call Lurch.


	6. Chapter 6

Hushed voices created a calming drone right outside the cracked door. A sliver of light leaked into the bedroom, allowing the shadows of the figures in the hallway to dance across the floor. Morticia heard the low murmurs before she was fully awake. Taking in a deep, content breath Morticia stretched her aching body. Cracking and straining under the sudden movement each muscle screamed out in pain. Her eyes shot open, she could feel each assaulted nerve with heightened sensitivity. Traumatized from the pain, her ribs held onto her breath refusing to release the air from her burning lungs. Suffocating, she could feel the pressure increase and her face becoming unbearably hot. Tears streamed down her cheeks from the compression building behind her eyes.

At last her body surrendered to its need, allowing her to gasp desperately for air. With every bit of strength she could muster, she turned on her side. As she watched the shadows subtly move over the hard floor, she tried to make out what was being said just beyond the door. Unfortunately, she could only catch a few words, most of them being her own name. Unable to do anything else, she laid and listened.

Her interest was piqued when she heard two sets of footsteps moving away from the door. Following the light, her eyes went to rest on the crack just in time for it to be pushed open, momentarily blinding her sapphire eyes.

"Cara Mia?" Gomez quickly shut the door. "I'm sorry, I didn't know you were awake."

Sitting next to her, he tenderly caressed her ebony hair. There was a worry etched into his face that she had never seen before. She studied every detail, each hair in his moustache, the droplets of sweat that teased his hairline, the crease in his brow from his now permanent expression.

"Am I?" Gomez was puzzled by her soft question. "Am I awake, Gomez?"

"Cara?"

"Help me sit up, I don't have the strength to do it alone."

Without a word, he maneuvered her body until she was as comfortable as possible. He resumed his spot next to her, waiting for whatever she would say next. Gently, he took her hand in his hoping the contact would encourage her.

"I feel as if," she stopped herself. As she searched for the words, she needed reassurance that he was beside her and not just a figment of her delirious state of mind. Her long fingers stroked his stubble ridden cheek, each tiny stab sending electricity directly to her dormant heart. In one swift motion, he captured her hand in his and brought her palm to his lips. Loving eyes bore deep into her soul as his lips adorned her flesh with affection. With uncharacteristic caution, Gomez began to travel up Morticia's lithe arm. When he reached the spot above her elbow, he paused waiting for a sign from his wife. To his delight, a small smile graced her lips giving him the approval he had desperately hoped for.

With each passionate kiss that continued his journey, the couple was beginning to feel normal again. As he reached the sensitive nape of her neck, she felt her body relax against him. The only pain that plagued her nerves was the subtle scrape of Gomez's teeth against her skin. Delving into his dark hair, her fingers curled in familiar pleasure.

"Mon Cher"

Her voice was soft, but it echoed through Gomez's heart as if she had shouted the adoration. Pulling her against him, everything around them ceased to exist. Nothing mattered besides their growing displays of love.

"Tish" Gomez chanted between possessive pecks on her lips. She could feel her turmoil disappearing, her darling husband washing it all away with each caress. Soon the familiar sounds of their passion filled the room, demanding that there be no intrusions to their intimacy. For the rest of the night, and into the next morning Gomez and Morticia were bound together in passion. It was almost as if they had made the recent traumatizing events vanish, but in their haze of lovemaking they didn't see Death hovering by the door.


	7. Chapter 7

**_*Author's Note* Hello Everyone! This chapter contains some more graphic content and disturbing psychological situations. Please take note before reading._**

Ecstasy possessed every cell, she had never known the height of pleasure that was consuming her soul. No thoughts clouded her mind, instinct taking full control over her body. Crimson nails dug into the scarred back of her beloved husband, creating fresh trails of speckled blood. Droplets of sweat began to form on the nape of her neck, as the weight of Gomez's body pressed against her. Breath was unattainable as their tongues dueled vigorously. She arched her back, desperate to be crushed beneath his broad chest. Leading the rhythm, Gomez grabbed Morticia's hips squeezing the flesh under his strong fingers.

Biting and pulling at her flesh, Gomez was becoming increasingly more aggressive. Morticia willingly offered herself to satiate his growing appetite. Bruises were beginning to form in her inner thighs, where he had mercilessly pinched the tender flesh as he traveled from her swollen lips to her sternum. Fingers were probing all her sensitive areas, teasing her nerves until they erupted in the form of low moans.

His name became the only word she knew. Morticia's fingers traced over his face, feeling the strong lines of his brow down to his jaw. He captured her wrists with one hand and held them above her head. Pounding against her breast, her heart was trying to keep up with how quickly they were moving. As he descended upon her lips once again, his free hand delved into her raven hair, grabbing a fistful of the tresses and pulling. Submitting completely, Morticia tilted her head back as Gomez devoured her neck. She ceased to exist anywhere besides in the passion of each thrust.

Morticia was lost in pleasure, completely possessed by her husband. Tightening around her wrists, his grip became almost unbearable. She pulled against his hand, only to have her arms pushed back harder. His face was buried in her neck, sucking on the precious vein that pulsated with liquid life.

"Gomez"

It was a hoarse whisper, meant only to steal his attention and lessen his intensity on her throat. Instead, he gripped her wrists harder, making her hands numb. Teeth buried themselves in her perfumed skin making Morticia gasp at the sudden pain.

"Mon Cher"

The adoration doubled as a plea. Although their love making was adventurous and constantly testing boundaries, Morticia knew his indifference to her was untypical. Panic began to consume the joy that presided over her mind. His thrusts became harder and more frantic, losing the elegant rhythm that created the music for their passion. Just as her voice began once again, his face was plastered against hers, stealing the air that would have begged his name. Suffocating her with his tongue, she tried to break away for just a moment of air, but his hands moved to hold her head in place.

With her arms suddenly free from his grasp, she could feel the rush of blood swarming to her deprived fingers. Pin pricks stabbed at each nerve as they were relieved of their former asphyxiation. Needing to breathe, Morticia forced her weakened hands to hold Gomez's face and pull him away from her swollen mouth. It took her three attempts before she finally regained enough strength to push him up. Sapphire eyes waited to meet his hazel, demanding an answer to his sudden abrasiveness. Instead, hollow sockets stared at her, sucking her soul into their dark void. As she tried to process the horrific image that had replaced her charming husband's visage, the terror increased. Decaying before her eyes, his beautiful olive skin bloated and turned blue. Chunks of skin began to fall from his cheeks, leaving only strings of flesh to cover the sides of his mouth.

Morticia's heart was racing so fast it made her feel faint, but the overwhelming fear forced her to stay conscious. She was so frightened she couldn't scream, she was a prisoner in her body and under his weight. Not having any other release, tears began to cloud her vision.

Gomez's jaw dropped open as the last of his flesh fell on Morticia's chest. The rotten tissue fell in a sickening scatter, releasing a rancid smell that stung Morticia's eyes. A screaming skull was all that was left of her precious Gomez. Morticia was paralyzed, unable to do anything but stare.

"Tish" a gravelly voice whispered.

That was all it took to unleash her bottled terror. A scream erupted from her as tears began to stream down her face. She pushed against him, fighting to get out of from underneath his weight. As much as she tried, she felt as if her body was moving in tar. Hopelessly afraid, she reached for the edge of the bed as she screamed pleas to the corpse that lay on top of her.

"Tish!"

Hearing her name again, made a fresh wave of panic wash over her. Sobs erupted between her endless screams.

"Morticia! Cara Mia!"

She felt arms reach out and drag her body back towards the middle of the bed. Strong hands caressed her tear stained face, and at last she recognized the voice calling her name. Unwilling to see if her ears were right, she tentatively reached up a hand to his face, worried she would feel nothing but bone. Instead, as her fingers reached to discover what held her, gentle lips kissed her palm. That gave her the courage to look. Slowly, she turned her head and saw her beloved husband watching her every move.

"Cara?" That's all he could say before she broke down in tears and pressed against him. His arms wrapped around her protectively, as his heart sank into an abyss.


	8. Chapter 8

Gomez fought his exhaustion with more intensity than any previous duel. He was desperate to guard over Morticia's sleeping frame, but with each second that passed his body was succumbing to the much-needed slumber. With his arms wrapped tightly around her figure, his eyelids became heavy. The intoxicating scent of her raven hair possessed the last of his alert senses, coaxing him to surrender to sleep. As soon as his eyes closed, Gomez's mind was dragged into a dream state where the veil between worlds does not exist.

Each step he took was like walking on air. He could not feel the movement of his muscles, but heard the familiar click of his shoes against the hard floor. There was no denying that he was walking from his bedroom down the candlelit hallway, yet there was something foreign about how his home was making him feel. As he reached the top of the stairs, his heart sank from its place in his chest. The house seemed desolate, but not in the way he and Morticia liked it. Morticia. He realized that her absence was what clouded the atmosphere of their home. Before he knew it, he was at the bottom of the stairs, searching for his wife.

Gomez had visited all her regular spots, but found no trace of his beloved querida. Loneliness filled the air, suffocating what little sense of comfort he had left. In a desperate attempt to keep hope, he went to the conservatory, sure his darling would pass through to feed Cleopatra. He waited silently, touching her prized thorns as if somehow, she would feel his caress through their thick flesh. Drowning in confusion, he sighed and laid his head in his hands. The sweet aroma of flowers filled his lungs, begging him to search for their source. Blossoms that smelled so sweet would not belong to Morticia's garden. He followed the scent out of the conservatory and into the living room.

As soon as he reached the doorway to the living room, Gomez was assaulted by the undeniable stench of decay. It was now obvious why the flowers were so overwhelming, they were a poor attempt to cover the sickening smell of death. The room was covered in various blooms, all associated with the loss of a loved one. Gomez felt trapped in the maze of flowers, and tried to move himself to the center of the room only to have his clothes caught by the thorns of white roses. He pulled against their hold, feeling the strain against the delicate threads of his suit. Suddenly he found himself facing the back of an open casket. The picture was beginning to develop in his mind: a wake, where the body was positioned near the foyer with a sea of flowers positioned behind it. Mourners would glide from the door to view the body, saved from the awful stink of rotting flesh by the plethora of fragrant blooms.

Nervously, Gomez made his way around the coffin. His hand reached out to touch the polished wood. Without thinking, he closed his eyes and allowed his hand to guide him to the front of the casket. His heart was pounding against his ribcage, unsure of who he would see laying against the satin. For some odd reason, he believed he would open his eyes to see himself laying dead before him. He squeezed the edge of the casket as he forced his eyes to open.

The sight before him was nothing he would have imagined. His cherished wife laid in front of him, a crown of white roses adorning her ebony tresses.

"Tish?"

He said her name only to confirm that his eyes were truly seeing his beloved wife laying lifeless. Unable to believe what he was seeing, he reached out to touch a curl that laid perfectly on her breast. The silk strands felt the same as they passed between his fingertips. The familiarity gave him a false sense of security, letting his hand raise to her face. As soon as his fingers touched her icy flesh, he drew back in shock.

"No" he let out the soft defeated whisper.

He could not believe that Morticia was dead. To be more specific, he could not believe she would be dead and he would still be alive.

"It can't be." He whispered in despair. Gomez forced himself to observe her figure laying in the satin lined coffin. The white blossoms made a stark contrast to her dark hair. A tear came to his eye as he realized she was wearing her wedding dress, such a beautiful memory became tainted by his growing anguish. There was a slight tinge of blue coloring her alabaster flesh, yet her lips were still scarlet. He became obsessed with her dark lashes resting against her cheek, hoping he would see them flutter before revealing the sapphires that fueled his soul. Tears clouded his vision so horribly, he was forced to look away. As the tears fell, he realized he was staring at her beautiful hands. They laid on top of each other, her long crimson nails plaguing him with memories of her caresses.

His fixation on her hands led him to notice the absence of Morticia's wedding ring. Bare, the pale finger had no sign of its treasured companion. Gomez could not recall the last time his wife's finger was without the large symbol of their precious marriage. There was no logical explanation as to why Morticia would remove her most prized possession, even in death.

As his mind whirled over the surreal situation, he began trying to piece everything together only to find himself lost. He could not remember Morticia dying, nor did he understand why he seemed to be the only one around to mourn for her. In a fit of rage and realization, he began to shout.

"Wake me from this hell!"

In his rage, he began to slap at his face trying to wake himself from the nightmare. When his physical actions had no consequences or feeling, he began to tear apart the flowers while repeating his demand. As he stood surrounded by ruined petals, he turned back towards the casket.

"Tish" he whispered as he rounded the coffin once again. "This cannot be _my_ Morticia!" he shouted.

Without thinking, he pulled her body out of its satin bed of death.

"You cannot have her!" he yelled to the orchestrator of his nightmare. Morticia's limp cold body rested against him as he screamed his declaration over and over again. He tried to carry her towards the stairs, but with each step he took the stairs were moved farther away. Frustrated, Gomez tried to move towards the front door, only to find himself in the conservatory. He was running out of ideas of escape and succumbing to the illusion of the false reality once again.

As he struggled to maintain his control, he glanced down at Morticia. Her limbs and head were reaching for the floor, it made his heart hurt to see her beautiful body twisting in such a painful way despite her inability to suffer. Gomez was finally broken, he set her body down by her prized thorns. Raven hair covered her face as her body met the floor. In his usual adoring fashion, Gomez brushed the tresses from her cold face before placing a kiss on her forehead.

"Querida," he whispered as he bent for her lips as his hand reached for the shears that rested on the counter above them.

As he felt the sharp plunge of his beloved's rose stained shears into his heart, his eyes finally opened to reality.

"Morticia!" he gasped as he reached out for her in their bed, only to find himself alone.


	9. Chapter 9

When Morticia finally found solace in sleep, death began to prey on her dreams. This time, he did not show himself. Instead, he created images that were familiar to the dark-haired beauty in order to lure her into his trap. Morticia fell victim to the beautiful images that were projected in her mind. As Gomez's doppelganger seduced her into a sultry tango, Morticia's sleeping form walked out of the master bedroom.

Her body moved through their house while her mind remained blissfully distracted by her dreams. She felt so close to Gomez, yet when she moved to gaze into his eyes, their dance would gain intensity shifting her focus.

The sweet smoky smell of his cigars permeated his clothes, Morticia smiled as she realized there was probably a lit one smoking from his breast pocket. She pressed her head against his cheek, enjoying the warmth of his olive skin. Delving into his slicked hair, her nails began their cat like kneading of his scalp. His hold on her tightened in reaction to her action, their bodies now inseparable.

"Oh, Gomez" Morticia sighed in content.

Devouring her neck, his mouth descended upon her at the sound of his name. His hands were threatening to leave the constraints of their stylistic positions, desperately aching to feel her soft flesh under his palms. It was a dance they knew by heart, teasing each other with every beat yet trying to restrain themselves. They each had their reliable techniques which claimed dominance and rendered their partner desperately helpless.

She was lost in the endless affection. As soon as she began to indulge in the pleasure coursing through her nerves, he would set a new part of her aflame. Morticia's senses were overwhelmed by passion, leaving her feeling weightless. Desperate for his lips, her fingers sought out his face.

"Mon cher" she cooed before their lips crashed against each other. Gomez was savoring her ruby lips, pulling on the fat flesh with his teeth. The pressure of his weight was making her knees buckle beneath her, but her darling husband kept her supported while he maneuvered her pliable body to deepen their kiss.

"Je t'aime, mon sauvage" she whispered in his ear, pleased to hear a low growl before he stole her lips again. As Gomez lifted her into his arms, he hungrily caressed the length of her leg.

She didn't know how they made it to their bed, but she was too consumed by lust to question it. They ravaged each other's flesh, tumbling across the bed with unadulterated desire. The ecstasy of le petite mort was just a moment away, her entire body tensing in anticipation. Then without warning their love-making stopped, and Morticia felt a cold possessing her body. All she could feel was cold, it stole her speech, feeling and consumed all her thoughts. A muddled voice was growing louder, calling her name in desperation.

Morticia struggled to open her eyes, her body weak and shivering. Through her dark lashes she could see the silhouette of her husband in the dark night.

"Gomez?" her voice was barely audible, but it exploded in his ears. Draping his robe over her frame, he lifted her into his arms. Morticia could barely react, all she knew was the cold.


	10. Chapter 10

Biting at his cheeks, the freezing air taunted his worried mind. Gomez did not know how long Morticia had been exposed to the elements, but her body was telling him it had been too long. She had been stiff when he picked her up off the damp ground. Heavy, her limbs were like blocks of ice as he wrapped his arms under her thighs and around her waist. Her thin silk nightgown offered no warmth, and his robe was no help with the satin ice still covering her body. Fighting to stay conscious, Morticia's soft voice would emerge bearing his name. He tried to keep talking to her despite his urgency to get her into the house. A string of romantic declarations spewed out of him as easily as breathing, while he pressed her shaking form harder against him.

As soon as he crossed the threshold with his precious cargo, his instinct was to shout for mama, but he restrained himself. He did not want to wake the entire household and subsequently have them all crowd his wife. Gently, he set Morticia down in her wicker chair before rushing to start a fire. As the flames began to grow in the fireplace, he pulled the fainting couch to sit directly in front of the blaze. When he was ready to move Morticia, he realized her nightgown was beginning to thaw. Morticia's bare feet and the surrounding carpet were completely soaked. Not wanting to waste another minute, Gomez rushed to her side. He pulled off his robe, exposing her slightly blue flesh.

"Cara Mia, we need to get you out of this nightgown." He whispered, trying to cover the anxiety that was suffocating him. She nodded, her eyes struggling to stay open long enough to help him. Tenderly, he maneuvered her body, his heart sinking at the difference he felt in her skin. Supporting her against his body, he released her from her wet prison, letting the black silk fall in a heap on the floor. Her newfound nakedness caused her body to shake more violently. Desperate to ease her tremors, Gomez removed his pajamas and used them to dress Morticia. Lifting her in his arms, he carried her to the couch by the fire. When he was satisfied that she was safe, he covered himself with his damp robe and ran to get mama.

Closing in defeat, Morticia could no longer fight unconsciousness. Without Gomez's presence her mind once again fell victim to a myriad of sensations. Gomez had only left her side for a few minutes, but her vulnerability made each second dangerous.

Gomez and Mama rushed into the room, together creating a tornado of chaotic anxiety. As he hurried to the couch where he left Morticia, his heart stopped its reassuring beating. Empty, the fainting couch was illuminated by the warm yellow light cast by the thriving flames. A few feet from the fire, his pajama bottoms lay in a heap on the floor. Without a word, he ran out to the front door. It was wide open, confirming his worst fears.

"Morticia!" he yelled into the night, as his feet crashed over the frost covered ground. Mama was not far behind him, calling after him.

In the distance he could make out the movement of a small dark figure. His lungs burned as he forced them to inhale the icy air so he could chase after the figure. As he got closer, he realized something was terribly wrong about the image before him. His wife was a graceful creature with a sensual yet subtle walk, as if every motion was a part of an elaborate dance. Before him however, her figure looked jerked about. There was no rhythm to the movement, she stumbled and dragged herself at an alarmingly quick pace. With each step he took, he could see more of the grotesque image.

Pale feet were not landing flat on the ground, instead stepping on her own toes or relying on the side of her feet. Every other step her ankle would twist and she would begin to fall, yet she kept going. Her bare legs were a stark contrast to the darkness around her, as they clumsily propelled her forward. Dark hair spilled over her limp head, which bobbed on her neck with each uneven step.

He called her name again, but she was undisturbed. Gomez was slowing down, headstones becoming an unseen obstacle to his pursuit. Suddenly, Morticia was struck down. A crooked headstone had caught her leg, creating a large gash from above her ankle down her foot. Although worried, Gomez was glad her momentum was stopped. He rushed to catch up to her, calling out loving reassurances that he was almost there.

Morticia stood, her head falling back as she did. A sense of dread overwhelmed Gomez as he watched her continue on, her injured leg wobbling beneath her weight as blood stained the ground. He was almost close enough to grab her when her upper body contorted. Her arms hung down, as her chest twisted towards him while her hips remained in place. Appalled and frightened by the image, Gomez could not move only stare. Then with a series of sickening snaps, her body collapsed.

Before her head could hit the ground, Gomez caught her in his arms. Shallow, her breath was nothing more than a faint rasp that was escaping through her slightly parted lips. He sat on the cold ground with his half naked wife in his lap, when Mama finally caught up to him.

"Gomez.." she started to question, but was silenced by the agony displayed on his face.

"What is happening, Mama?" he whispered as he examined Morticia's bleeding wound, and swelling ankles. Mama was silent, having no answer nor a word of comfort. Silently she watched as he turned his attention from Morticia's injuries to her sunken face. As he cried out in anguish and frustration, Mama looked away unable to watch her son's suffering. That's when she realized where they were.

"Gomez, look where we are."

Glancing around, he started taking note of their surroundings. In disbelief, he stared at Mama to see her give a bewildered nod. Morticia had collapsed on the plot of soil that was meant to cover her decaying body as it rotted in the cold embrace of the dark ground.

"She led you to her grave." Mama whispered.


	11. Chapter 11

Beads of sweat formed at her hairline, but she continued to shiver ferociously. Nothing they did could chase the cold away. Silently, Gomez sat beside his sleeping wife. Their marital bed had been transformed into a vessel of death, a simple comfort while they awaited endless gloom. A bottle of hemlock sat on the nightstand beside Gomez, waiting patiently for the moment Morticia's breath stopped so that it could kiss his lips.

"Gomez…" her soft voice broke his reverie.

"Cara Mia," he kissed her hand "How are you feeling?"

With great effort, her hand raised to caress his face. For a moment, he believed all would be well as he became lost in her loving blue eyes. His hope did not last long, the sorrow that poured from her pupils confirmed all his fears.

"Mon Cher," she let her thumb glide over his lips. Tears flooded his eyes, hearing his pet name laden with such sorrow that he believed it would be the last time the words passed her lips. "Death has come for me."

"He cannot have you, Tish. You are still mine, and I will not lose you!" The tears began to fall as he kissed her palm.

"Darling, I want to die as we lived."

Gomez looked at her puzzled, waiting for her to continue.

"In bliss" she finished, a faint smile playing on her blue lips.

"Tish.."

"Please, Mon Cher. Let me surrender my life as our passion makes me fully alive." They sat in silence a moment before Morticia's thinly veiled emotions were exposed. Her lips quivered as she fought the tears, then she began to cry. "Gomez," her voice broke on his name. "I don't know how else I could say goodbye to you."

Tenderly, his lips met hers creating a pool where their tears collided. His touch was as light as a feather as his fingertips glided down her cheeks and neck. She felt different, her skin clammy and frozen, her muscles stiff and weak. He tried to be as gentle as possible as he memorized each curve of his dying wife.

Their usual fiery passion was absent, replaced by the raw expression of a gentle love. Gomez explored her as if his eyes and hands had never known her tempting form. Breathlessly, Morticia watched his face determined to burn the image into her soul.

"Speak to me, mon amour" she pleaded.

Her request broke what little façade he had left. In anguish, he met her gaze.

"I don't know what to say, my dear."

"Darling," her voice was soft. Never had she thought that the day would come where Gomez had no words. "Can you still say you love me? That's all I need."

Years of eloquent love letters laid on the tip of his tongue, and she only wanted to hear three words. Suffocated by heartache, Gomez choked out the words. "I love you more than anything Morticia."

Her long fingers took hold of his shirt and pulled him down to her desperate lips. Even with his heart broken by grief, Gomez could not resist Morticia. In the flurry of caresses, the couple began to succumb to the familiarity of their passion.

Morticia's body was fighting against every pleasurable sensation, weakness incapacitating her already aching muscles. Her breath was shortened by the intensity of her rapidly beating heart, a sign of her body's final grasps at life. Her vision began to blur as she struggled to breathe. For a moment, she felt her soul reaching out for death, begging him to release her from her struggle. As she pleaded for him to take her, death began to disappear.


	12. Chapter 12

Gomez held Morticia against his sweat covered chest. As his fingers caressed her hair, he listened for her breath. Over the past few days, her ragged breathing had become his sign that his wife was still struggling to stay with him. Gomez was so focused on hearing the irregular airflow, he didn't realize that Morticia was lazily drawing paths from his chest to his navel with the tip of her stiletto nail. When her action didn't stir her husband's passion, Morticia lifted her head to find his eyes.

"Gomez, darling?"

Sadness clouded his dark eyes as they moved to gaze down at her. Gomez felt the lump in his throat grow, suffocating any words that might have escaped his lips. He could only squeeze her against him and place a kiss on her forehead.

Morticia nestled against him, unsure of how to bring comfort to her loving husband. She succumbed to sleep while her mind still worried over how to soothe Gomez's aching heart. He felt her body grow heavy against him as she relaxed in sleep, yet her breath was still inaudible. Terror possesed every fiber of his being, forcing him to stay awake throughout the entirety of the night. He could not risk leaving reality for one moment for fear that Morticia would be gone when he awoke.

During the long night Gomez held his wife, caressing her raven hair and whispering words of adoration into her ears. He was convinced that once the hideous rays of sunlight peeked through the curtains, his life would be over and he would follow Morticia to the grave. When Lurch came in with a tray of breakfast, it completely shocked Gomez. He could not believe the night was over, then to his amazement Morticia sat up beside him.

"Tish" He sighed before diving into the crook of her neck. Gomez couldn't help himself as he claimed her flesh. Faintly, he heard her thank Lurch followed by the creak of the door closing.

"Darling," she purred. "I've missed you."

Without another thought he was on top of her, lost in the heated passion that only she could summon. All his worries began to melt into her warm lips, as if the past months of fear had never existed. Gomez nipped down her throat and clavicle until his mouth reached the swell of her breast. As his hands grabbed hungrily at the plump flesh he heard her take in a sharp breath laden with pain.

"Tish?"

Panic was etched on her face as she gasped for air. Her chest heaved as her hands flew to her throat. Fear flooded Gomez's senses, as he tried to help his struggling wife.

"Mama!" he yelled as he moved to help Morticia sit up. His heart raced as he realized Morticia was beginning to turn blue.

"Mama!" he yelled again, the desperation becoming more evident. Gomez watched in horror as Morticia's eyes rolled back in her head. Eudora Addams burst through the door just as Morticia's body collapsed against Gomez.


	13. Chapter 13

For two weeks, Gomez was in a constant state of panic. He refused to leave Morticia's side for even a moment, convinced that if he did it would be his wife's last. One minute, she would be fine almost as if she was completely back to herself, then without warning she would be halfway in her grave. Gomez had the whole house upturned in chaos to match his emotional state.

Morticia was the only one spared from Gomez's whirlwind of anxiety. On Mama's insistence, Morticia was confined to their bedroom, anyone wanting to go in had to first gain approval from her protective husband. As she laid against the silk sheets, Morticia stared at the closed door. She watched the sliver of light that invaded a few mere inches into her cell, waiting for any movement that would relieve her of her solitude.

Waves of illness claimed her as their victim, and yet she had only felt whispers of death. His presence had not vanished, but she felt as if his hold on her was beginning to diminish. He was a tricky foe, just as she began to believe she was free, her breath would be stolen once more. While gasping for air, Morticia was reminded that her body was not always her own.

Tender and swollen, she was in a chronic state of irritation. No matter what she did she was uncomfortable in her own skin. Even when Gomez caressed her, she felt her nerves fight against the loving touches. What affections she thought she could not live without now made her tense. Morticia felt like a wounded animal biting at her caretakers because she didn't understand her own pain. Gomez was obviously trying to be understanding, but she knew their lack of physical affection devastated him.

Slowly, Morticia got out of bed. She gracefully pulled her lace robe on over her nightgown and rang for Lurch. Fully expecting Gomez to be the one to respond to the loud gong, Morticia sat at her vanity. Sapphire eyes stared back at her as she scrutinized her appearance. Routinely, her hands went to brush her thick wavy tresses. As she watched the repetitive motion smooth out each strand, a strange rosy hue caught her eye. Leaning in closer, Morticia realized there was no denying what she was seeing. Her usual porcelain pallor was now tainted, as if her cheeks had been kissed by the blooms of her plumpest red roses. In shock, fingertips raised to feel the change in her flesh. Gomez walked in just in time to see Morticia's eyes grow as wide as the full moon.

"Cara mia?"

"My face…"

Her response confused him, but her immensely charming husband did not let that stop him for a second. Gomez was on his knees beside her, his hands covering hers.

"The most enchanting face! The face of a goddess! My goddess! Eres Divina!"

Each compliment was followed by a kiss on her decolletage.

"Gomez, darling" she grabbed the sides of his face, stopping his flood of adoration. She finally stole his attention, and placed his fingers on her cheeks. That small action completely changed his demeanour.

"Tish…"

"What's wrong with me Gomez?"

Without another thought, Gomez had scooped her in his arms and rushed her down the stairs.

"Mama!" He yelled the whole way down the stairs. Wild white hair rushed out of the kitchen.

"What is it, Gomez?" Mama watched as he descended the final steps with his precious cargo.

"Mama, please. Something's wrong with Morticia." Before she could even ask, Gomez placed Mama's hands on Morticia's cheek.

"Warm." she stated, before realizing what she said. "Warm!? Gomez, set her down. Let me look at her."

He did as she asked. Gently he set Morticia down in her wicker chair, loving how slowly her arms glided over his shoulders as she lost her hold. His wife's subtle touch was quickly replaced by his mother shoving him out of the way. With both hands, mama held Morticia's face and stared into her eyes. Without a word she moved her hands over Morticia, hovering just inches above her body while reciting an ancient language.

With her eyes closed, Mama let her hands wander over Morticia's frame until they stopped on their own. As soon as they did, Mama's voice grew low and otherworldly.

"Where there once was one, now lives two."

Mama's voice rang in their ears, her words echoing between Morticia and Gomez. Slowly, Morticia turned to face her dumb-struck husband.

"Gomez…"

"Cara mia, could it be?"

Gomez reached for Morticia's outstretched hand, kissing it lovingly.

"Gomez, a child."

" _Our_ child."


	14. Epilogue

Death never left the Addams home, he was always there lurking in the shadows. He had been so close in possessing Morticia, he could not just leave. He watched as her physical form began to change shape, accommodating the very thing that stopped him from taking his pale prize.

Gomez followed Morticia everywhere. Any chance he got, his hands were all over her swollen belly. Morticia had accepted her glow, mainly because of the way it seemed to draw Gomez to her like a moth to a flame.

Sometimes, Morticia could sense Death nearby. It would be a cold breeze, or a shadow moving out of the corner of her eye. It was most noticeable when she was trimming her thorns, the blooms seemed to shrivel up and decay before they ever touched the ground. It was as if they fell from Morticia's hands into Death's waiting grip.

When their daughter finally arrived, Gomez was endlessly elated. He held the raven haired infant in his arms marveling at how much she looked like her beautiful mother. Morticia studied her woeful little girl's face, there was an odd familiarity in her sombre features. There was no doubt the infant in her husband's arms was their child, but it seemed as if Death had somehow touched her. While realizing his defeat, Death had indeed left a kiss on the life that beat him in his conquest. Their darling child was born from a horrible mix of love and the macabre.

"Gomez darling, what do you think of the name Wednesday?"


End file.
